Free Vow of Obedience by Veronica Black Page B

My cooking is awful, and as you’re finding out my mind flies off too frequently at a tangent. We must try not to dwell on unpleasant events in the secular world.’
    In her own ears she sounded impossibly pompous but Sister Teresa nodded and smiled. A nice, competent, dedicated girl, she reckoned. In her early twenties and obviously destined to be an asset to the order. By what strange quirk of fate had this young woman landed in a convent and another, of about the same age, ended as a body huddled in a shed?
    The reading chosen for that evening as they ate their meal was the life of St Maria Goretti, read in a softly hesitating voice by little Sister Martha. No doubt the history of that raped and violated child who had forgiven her murderer as she lay dying had been suggested to Mother Dorothy’s mind by recent events. Though Valerie Pendon had not been violated she recalled, and felt thankful that she had been spared the final horror.
    Recreation immediately followed supper, a recreation in which the lay sisters generally didn’t join. As Sister Joan hesitated, however, Mother Dorothy paused to speak to her.
    ‘When the dishes are done, Sister, you and Sister Teresa will join us for the hour of recreation. Perhaps you will bring the paintings you did while you were on retreat. We will make our choice of one to hang up and sell the rest at the Christmas bazaar.’
    Recreation wasn’t always the most exciting hour in the day. Sisters were required to bring some useful work with them and expected to sit in a semi-circle, choosing subjects ofconversation that would be of general interest. She washed the dishes, slipped out to check on Lilith who greeted her with a reproachful look and went on chewing hay, and made her way upstairs again.
    The recreation room opened off the refectory on the first floor. Once the two huge rooms had been a ballroom where the Tarquin family had entertained. Even with the mirrors gone and the gilt cornices tarnished the apartments had an air of vanished grandeur. Apart from the semi-circle of chairs there was a long table on which wool and sewing baskets were laid out ready for use, and the huge fireplace which was innocent of fire since heating was permitted only in the kitchen and the infirmary.
    ‘Ah, you have brought your pictures, Sister.’ Sister Perpetua looked expectant.
    ‘Only four smallish ones,’ Sister Joan said. ‘I also painted two views of the monastery chapel for the monks who take care of the retreat. These are of the loch, with one of the retreat itself.’
    Laying them on the table her recent stay in Scotland came vividly to mind – the steep climb up to the cave where once monks had kept watch for Viking longboats, the community of brothers living their retired lives on the spit of land that jutted out into the loch – that had been a time taken out of time, weeks that were unlikely ever to come again.
    ‘We shall hang the one of the retreat,’ Mother Dorothy said. ‘It’s many years since I was there and I had quite forgotten how steep the ascent to it is. When the council of prioresses is held we must discuss the matter.’
    ‘You are very talented, Sister,’ Sister David said wistfully.
    ‘But I can’t translate Greek into Latin and back again.’
    ‘We all have talents that can be put to God’s use, Sister,’ Mother Dorothy said, picking up the remaining three pictures. ‘These should fetch a very good price at the bazaar.’
    ‘Shouldn’t they be signed?’ Sister Gabrielle who was attending recreation piped up unexpectedly.
    ‘Sister Joan has no wish to bring herself to public notice,’ Mother Dorothy said.
    ‘Hasn’t she?’ Sister Gabrielle’s face expressed innocent astonishment. ‘My, but the retreat has changed her a lot then!’
    There was a ripple of laughter as the sisters took up their work and settled down.
    ‘I think it’s wonderful the way Sister Joan helps the police and carries out her duties,’ Sister Katherine said